


Lace It with A Bow

by babyvfan



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, Anniversary, Anniversary Surprise, Body Worship, Body insecurity, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Dirty Talk, Established Relationship, Fluff, Giving Shiro all the love he deserves, Homophobia, Hunk (Voltron) is a Good Friend, Insecure Shiro (Voltron), Insecurity, Lingerie, M/M, Married Couple, Post-Canon, Shiro in Lingerie, Top Keith (Voltron), brief angst, men in lingerie, mostly fluffy, only brief - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:54:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26518549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyvfan/pseuds/babyvfan
Summary: Sometimes the greatest gifts come from the heart....and sometimes they also come in red lace.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 20
Kudos: 78
Collections: Sheith Prompt Party 2020





	Lace It with A Bow

**Author's Note:**

> Written for prompt 30: Shiro decides to surprise Keith with a little silk-and-lace lingerie
> 
> Had so much fun brainstorming ideas for this one with my incredible fanart partner, who did fanart that is sooooo good. Also massive massive shout-out to sharki, who was such an incredible beta reader. You're the best. 
> 
> Hope you readers enjoy

Becoming a fellow humanitarian to the Galactic Relief coalition was a career Shiro never would have pictured. He was pretty sure at a young age, when he thought of humanitarians, he usually thought of college-looking people coming into the classrooms and presenting pictures of tiny huts. But it was a job he found fulfilling and greatly satisfying. Unlike the admiral position offered to him at Garrison, which seemed fitting at the time considering how he quickly adapted to the commanding role but whose momentum quickly wore out.

Shiro still remembered the shock on Iverson’s face, along with the bulging neck veins nearly popping off, when he turned down the position. In some ways, he understood the man’s shock. After the former commander’s death, Shiro unexpectedly but quickly filled in her shoes. A natural leader.

But going back to earth only further shone light on how narrow-minded and paranoia the place was, shutting down anything and everything they deemed strange. Coming back the second time around, Shiro finally saw just how far that paranoia ran. How suffocating.

Being part of the coalition, he was still able to travel to the stars and different planets like he always dreamed. At the same time, he was also able to put his skills to use, whether it was forming teams to handle disruption or construction. Meeting with old friends and new allies alike as they worked together to rebuild. He was able to spend time at the base center on earth to review and organize plans.

Slight downside to the job was the mountain of paperwork that always seemed to greet him each time he came into his office. Thankfully, the pile wasn’t as immensely large like the one he would have been subjected in the Garrison admiral position, along with countless meetings he’d need to attend.

Nearing the afternoon, he made a small dent into the paperwork. He was focused; he was in the zone. So much so that it took awhile to pick up on the thrum of buzzing breaking through the heavy silence that had cloaked his office.

Shiro blinked his eyes and shook his head until the vision of white and black ink faded away, then searched for his PADD that was buried underneath a small mountain of papers, swiping right.

Keith’s gorgeous face took over the entire screen, the sight igniting that familiar spark of warmth that ran so deep into his bones every time he saw that face. Even if that face currently had irritation plastered on it, lips curled in distaste as if Keith was struggling to forget the taste of a sour lemon. “Please tell me why I took this mission again.”

Shiro chuckled, leaning back into his chair, which helped relieve some of the knots in his back. “Because if a normal nine to five desk job doesn’t work for me, it works less for you.”

Keith snorted. “Diplomacy is its own form of torture.”

Particularly for those not skilled in the game, which sadly Keith wasn’t, but Shiro decided to hold that comment in. “Okay, well, how about the fact that Krolia was leading this mission and you wanted to be her right-hand man.”

“That…” Keith started to protest, but then paused. “Is…true.”

“Aww,” Shiro cooed, noting and beaming at the light shade of red that touched Keith’s face. “Mama’s boy.”

“Shut up.” 

“I think it’s cute.”

“Shut up.”

Shiro didn’t even bother hiding his laughter, letting it out freely. Keith’s bemused expression was swept away, replaced by one of faux exasperation.

“Har, har,” he drily replied. “Funny.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Modest too.”

Shiro looked at him and flashed him his most charming smile. “Because you love me.”

The light pink color of Keith’s cheeks deepened to a full, flushing red, spreading over his entire face. Shiro could literally see the stream billowing from his skin, but easily spotted the soft smile curling across Keith’s face that was touched with adoration, one that Shiro knew matched his own.

“I do,” Hot as his face must had felt, those words fell easily. “I really do.”

For a moment, the two looked into each other’s eyes, gazes soft, lips curled. Then, as if realizing how sweet the moment was becoming, Keith’s smile went from soft to sinister as he placed his hands underneath his chin and leaned closer.

“Much as I love exploring the stars and all, I’d much rather explore you.”

That had to be one of the corniest lines Shiro ever heard, which was something considering the number of bombs Lance fired at Allura throughout the years. It shouldn’t be that easy for him to switch over from smitten kitten to a sly Don Juan. It shouldn’t have affected Shiro the way it did, stirring heat in the bottom of his stomach, reaching down to his lower half.

“Keith.” Shiro tugged at his collar, fighting the urge to rub at the burning flush itching at his neck.

Oh, how the tables have turned. Just a moment ago, Keith was the one stammering and flashing, which Shiro took great pleasure in watching. Now he was the one flashing bright red. His husband saw right through the gesture, a wicked smile playing with his lips that further stirred the heat inside him, making Shiro shift in his seat, much as he tried to be as casual about it.

“You’re shameless,” Shiro mumbled.

“And you love it,” Keith stated.

It was an easy statement Shiro didn’t bother denying.

“You wouldn’t happen to be alone, would you?” Keith leaned further in.

“I-” Like a light switching on, realization snapped on. “No, no, no!”

A slim, dark brow rose and it was entirely unfair how it further beautified Keith’s look, completing the look of a Blade in his long braid and uniform. “No, as in you’re not alone-”

“No, as in we’re not doing that.”

“Are you sure?” Keith toyed with the zipper at his collar, slowly peeling it down, revealing a peek of smooth pale skin.

The same pale skin Shiro missed kissing and biting, empty of love-bites. For a second, longing hit him so hard that Shiro was tempted to lock his door and proceed. Keith had even thrown in that adorable puppy pout that usually crumbled Shiro’s resistance, but today he was keeping firm, for the sake of his dignity.

When Keith saw that his pout wasn’t working, he grumbled as he folded his arms and leaned back, turning back to the grouch Shiro knew and loved.

Shiro chuckled. “Oh baby.”

“I miss my husband.” Keith half-cried into the air, flinging his arms into the air with such theatrics that Lance and Coran would be proud.

“Well, it’s safe to say Lance is finally rubbing off on you.”

Keith aimed a glare at him. “Must you?”

“I must.” Shiro smiled.

Keith was far from amused by his remark, but soon his annoyance was moved aside, especially when Shiro slid in the following comment:

“Besides, you’re coming back this weekend, right?”

Keith lifted his chin, eyes determined yet bright in their warmth. “Not even the need of the greater good will stop me from coming home.” Softness won over determination. “Particularly on the weekend of our anniversary.”

“Our weekend.” Shiro repeated with a goofy smile.

A burning blaze of yellow sparked through those eyes, electric and raw in its need, threatening to crumble the resistance Shiro was trying to hold onto. “Are you sure you don’t feel a bit daring?”

Shiro bit onto his thumb, torn between reasons why they shouldn’t and reasons why he should toss caution to the wind. “Keith.”

“I promise I’ll make it good,” Oh lord, he wasn’t just playing with his zipper. He was pulling it down halfway to his chest and pushing the lapels of his suit aside, revealing that soft white skin, skin that Shiro noticed was empty of hickeys and love-bites. “So good for you, babe.”

Images popped into his head of the various ways Keith showed how good he was at playing with Shiro’s body, including a pleasant time that took place in his own office, on this very chair. Blood rushed to both heads, making him light-headed, while he remembered the way he rode Keith and the way Keith drove him.

He sucked in a deep breath, gathered every bit of restraint he had, and answered back with a sweet smile, “As a great poet once said, ‘Abstinence makes the heart grow fonder.’”

Just like that, the seductive Don was gone and the familiar grouch he knew and loved was back, groaning as he zipped up his suit and slumped in his chair, banging the back of his head against it.

Shiro barely held onto his chuckle. “But I still love you though.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Keith grumbled. “Love you too. Even if you’re mean.”

This time Shiro didn’t bother holding his chuckle, letting it ring freely. “Well you’re a grouch but I still adore you.”

Keith scowled, but the severity of his burning look was ruined by the softness in his eyes, the ghost of the smile tugging at his mouth.

They stayed online for a few minutes, chatting about everything from the amount of paperwork Shiro still had to go through to the village settlement Keith and the Blades were headed to but still had a long way before plans were finalized, and things outside of work. Keith laughed at Shiro’s account of the failed dance lesson Lance had with Allura, where he tried to show her a dance move and ended up getting flipped over her shoulder so hard, he tumbled and skidded all the way across the floor. Shiro was entertained by Keith’s playful exasperation at the heart eyes Krolia and Kolivan constantly were making at each other, which was getting on his nerve.

By the time they had to end the video call, Shiro’s chest was glowing with warmth like a candle was burning inside him. Some of that light dimmed when he glanced over at the calendar thumbtacked to the pillar wall by his computer.

July 24, marked with several hearts in various shades of red, pink, and black, done on a slow work day when he had a rare case of colorful pens and loads of times on his hands. The date when Shiro had finally mustered up the courage to ask Keith out, seeing him lying in the hospital bed after the Paladins managed to win the war, realizing how much the man meant to him. The date where, out in the heart of the Grand Canyons underneath the afternoon sun, surrounded by their closest friends and family, they exchanged rings and said I do.

Now here they were, after nearly a decade long of friendship and two years of dating, and almost a year into celebrating their married life. With several days left until the date and still no plans.

“Dear God,” Shiro groaned, rubbing his temples.

He knew he was making this more complicated than it should be, and could almost hear his mom from the grave gently but firmly scolding him for it, but he couldn’t help it. He was an over-thinker by heart, and when it came to his husband, his overthinking went into overdrive. The funny thing was Keith wasn’t even that difficult. He was the opposite of difficult. He told Shiro point blank that his favorite things were, “Fast cars, fast bikes, good coffee, nice beds, and you.”

Which was sweet and all, but that was also the issue. Shiro knew that Keith would be up for anything, like anything Keith did for him. But he didn’t want to do just anything. He didn’t want simple. He wanted to go beyond the homemade route of cooked meals yet at the same time didn’t want to go through the usual store-brought route either, or the gift-card route most people tended to go when there was no other direction they could take for shopping.

“You, my friend, look like you can use some bubble tea.”

At the sound of the voice, Shiro pulled away from his thoughts that were quickly piling up in his head and was back in the present. Hunk stood in the doorway, one hand still on the knob, the other in a soft wave that made Shiro wonder how long he’d been standing there, trying to get his attention.

Shiro replied to Hunk’s smile with one of his own. “You sound like someone who just returned from having one and need a partner in crime to come along for the second trip.”

The sheepishness of Hunk’s smile confirmed that theory. “Well, you’ve been cooped up here all day. Some sunshine is bound to do you some good.”

Such sweet, caring words that both greatly warmed him but at the same time rose the suspicion in Shiro, whose meddling husband’s spider senses were tingling. “Oh?” Entwining his hands together, Shiro tucked them underneath his chin. “Tell me, my good friend Hunk. Did Keith tell you to check up on me?

“Nooo…”Hunk drawled, which was pretty much another confirmation.

For the hundredth time Shiro wondered if there was a Galra inherited ability that provided Keith with the ability to read minds, and or have special eye-sight that allowed him to see things galaxies away. It was a fun theory that usually got a smile or chuckle out of him, but deep down Shiro knew Keith, miles away, worlds away, always knew when something was off with him. Like whenever Shiro was too neck-deep into work and would end up either skipping lunch or staying late in his office, he could always count on Keith to send messages of all things or even their friends as stand-ins to take his meds, take a break, turn off the computers. Shiro probably would have found it annoying if it wasn’t already sweet.

“But,” Hunk injected. “there’s always time for some good boba. So how about it?”

Heaving a sigh, Shiro glanced back at his calendar, feeling a headache unfurling inside his head, then over at the stack of papers he still needed to review for Allura, so he could send his response to her ASAP for their next meeting.

“You know what? Why not?”

~….~

Shiro could never for the life of him comprehend how one, well-thought-out plan with a planned item and destination could turn into an all-day event, where he ended up getting a lot more than an order of bubble tea. Then again he was notorious for making Target runs with the sole intention of picking up the essentials and Oreos, then leaving the store hours later with seven or so bags filled to the brim, so he shouldn’t be too surprised.

It didn’t help that he was with Hunk, who turned out to be a much worse shopaholic than Lance shockingly enough -and Lance was notorious for nearly buying out stores.

Shopping around with Hunk, as it turned out, was as much of a treat as the Cocoa Cream Wow he had gotten from Kung Fu Tea. He was greatly entertained by the way Hunk examined each and every item he picked up from stores, whether it was a headband or a new pair of boots or even an avocado from Wegmans, inspecting every side for any possible flaws, before it was either deemed worthy to be added to the cart or place back on the shelf.

In some ways it wasn’t that much different than the shopping trips he used to go on with his grandmother on early Saturday mornings. Hunk was even doing the inspector glare, one eye closed, other a narrowed slit, tongue peeking out, as he examined a piece of broccoli. A long, slow minute of staring and finally with a nod, Hunk placed it in the cart, deeming it worthy to be used for the shrimp fried rice he was making tonight.

“Please explain to me,” Shiro said, trying his hardest not to laugh. “How that piece is so vastly different from the other seven you just placed back?”

Hunk was humming happily as he bagged the vegetable until the question was asked, then slowly looked over at Shiro, his face blank. “I don’t judge you when you carefully examine Funko pops and action figures at Newbury Comics. You don’t judge me when I carefully examine my ingredients."

Oh how Shiro was tempted to remind Hunk of the number of judging looks he sported whenever they went into the comic store, where he and Pidge rushed over to the Funko section and drooled over the newest additions like freshly baked bread from the oven. Hell, just the other day, Hunk achieved a new level of judgement when Shiro nearly burst from his skin at the collection of Winter Soldier pops that finally came in.

Before he could remind him, though, Hunk went on to say, “Besides, I know a good thing when I see it, especially ingredients. The chef is always right.”

“But-”

“The chef,” With a bright as the smile on his face, Hunk spoke with the same final conviction of someone proclaiming their fierce love for their mother. “Is always right.”

Such strong conviction that Shiro slowly backed away, arms raised in surrender.

Like he said, it was entertaining. Although he had to admit, as much as a good time he was having with Hunk, as great as a relief it was to be outside of his office, the best part of their little shopping trip was the sales. It was almost as if the shopping gods decided to reward him for his daring adventure while also later condemning him to misery, thanks to the number of swipes his card was treated to-and the number of blows his bank account would suffer later.

Almost every store had sales ranging from twenty-five to seventy-five percent off; buy one, get one free, buy two and get the third half off. From the Body Shop whose strong fumes always made Shiro’s eyes water from the overwhelming scent, to the toy shop, and to a particular shop at the top third floor with a big red sign proclaiming a fifty-percent off sale. That was what caught his eye as they were scrolling down the hall. What held his attention was the crimson red lacy number on the display window, featuring a near-sheer corset, with a red boa wrapped around the mannequin’s shoulders.

Shiro wasn’t too sure about the boa; he was never really big on feathers. The corset though was interesting. Simple but eye-catching with its lace detail along the cups, the straps shinning underneath the fluorescent lights.

“Fucking fairy.”

That was when Shiro remembered where he was and what he was doing. Stopping in the middle of the crowded mall, staring bluntly at lingerie. It wouldn’t be too usual for a guy to do. If it were anyone else, like Lance or even James, it would be fine, maybe even seen as funny.

But judging by the sneer of the older man a few feet away from them, there was something in the way Shiro stared at the piece that gave away his lack of normalcy in his disgusted glare. That Shiro’s slip-up confirmed he wasn’t a regular guy in his eyes or society’s normal standards. Far from it, with too many factors that signaled him out. His Asian heritage, his built, his arm, his romantic preferences.

Heart twisting into knots, Shiro met the man’s disgusted face with a cool glare of his own that he hoped said what he thought of the man’s shitty opinions and where he could stick them. His hand was twitching, his middle finger begging to be brought out for display, and Shiro had half a mind to let it fly.

Hunk stepped in front of him, blocking Shiro from the asshole’s view. Wasn’t that easy since Shiro still had inches over Hunk, but he somehow managed. Hunk’s tone was light, eyes sparking with mirth as he said, with the fervor as a kid at the zoo, “ Hey, asshole, how many brain cells does it take to be homophobic trash and walk at the same time? Oh, I know.” Hunk pointed down the end of the hall. “Why don’t you show us?”

An ugly shade of red spread over his face from hairline to collarbone, where Shiro saw a thick vein bulging dangerously, running down the left side of his neck. He glanced between Shiro and Hunk, face growing redder, spit flying from his mouth as he fumbled for a comeback.

When it was clear nothing creative or original would come to mind, the asshole gave them one last sneer and marched away, muttered curses firing from his mouth.

Hunk cupped his hands around his mouth and called out behind him, “Let us know when you reached a million steps or become less trashy-whichever comes first.”

Shiro dissolved into laughter, clutching onto Hunk, who was holding on and laughing along with him. When he finally managed to catch his breath, he lifted his head up and smiled at him. It never ceased to amaze him how much Hunk had changed from the flustered, nervous boy he met in the beginning to a man who was still soft, still flustered but wasn’t afraid to voice his thoughts.

“Wow,” Shiro muttered.

“Wow indeed.” Hunk playfully elbowed him, but then as he straightened, his smile drooped into a frown. “It seriously amazes me how after everything-the invasion, the war, the loss-people still choose to be ignorant.”

Shiro’s smile was one of sympathetic understanding. It was a disbelief they both shared. “Trust me, I know. Sadly in the case of most people, despite constant disaster and loss, they choose to remain ignorant.”

Hunk considered the words with a slow nod, his frown tightening a bit.

Shiro patted his arm. ‘But luckily we have people like you who can take them on.”

“And you,” Hunk elbowed him again, his former smile returning. “You didn’t just win the title of leader because of your seniority, great mentor of Underdogs.”

Shiro wasn’t too sure about the name but appreciated the sentiment all the same.

“Besides, it was nothing. As a great man once said,” Hunk went on. “‘I don’t like bullies, sir.’”

Shiro cocked his eyebrow. “Did you just Captain America-”

Hunk rushed forward and pressed his hand against Shiro’s mouth so hard, he felt his teeth bending back. “Shh!” He pressed a finger against his own mouth and glanced nervously. “Okay, look. I can’t explain it nor do I have supporting proof but I’m ninety-nine percent sure that Pidge has eyes and ears everywhere, especially considering her least favorite Avenger who, and I quote, ‘is the reason why the Avengers could never regain the greatness they had in the first movie.’”

Shiro’s brows rose.

“She binged all the Marvel movies recently and is still hurting over what the final movies did to her favorite, Iron Man. Anytime she hears Captain America’s name, she’s ready to cut heads.”

Good to know. Shiro pried his hand away.

“And for the record, dude, if anyone has the right to enjoy nice things-whatever they may be-then it’s definitely you. Whether it’s the person you want,” With a supportive, bright smile, Hunk jerked his head towards the store, at the red number Shiro had been staring at. “Or what you want to wear.”

Shiro’s cheeks matched the same vibrant red of the lingerie. He resisted the urge to rub at his neck or turn the other direction, knowing from past experiences it only made the blushing worst. Though he did pull at the collar of his t-shirt that was starting to feel a bit too tight.

“It’s not-” An automatic ‘it’s nothing’ was at the tip of his tongue, ready to fly out. A phase that became so common for him, along with, ‘I’m fine. It’s nothing. Forget it.’ The last one was a phase Shiro was ready to use after their unpleasant encounter, but he promised himself and Keith and their friends that he wouldn’t dismiss his feelings anymore.

As if he could read the flustered conflict on Shiro’s face, Hunk’s supportive smile kicked up an extra encouraging notch. ‘Go on. Splurge. Also…” He leaned in close, voice dropping to a whisper. “Now I usually I don’t pry into you guys’ love life.”

So many words in that one sentence caused warming bells to slowly stir.

“But, just for the record, I don’t think Keith would mind seeing you in that.”

Shiro’s mouth dropped.

“Okay, now that I said my little two-bit piece, I’m gonna head to the food court.” By the time, Shiro managed to retrieve his jaw, Hunk was already walking away. “Meet me when you’re done.”

~…..~

Clothes made the man was an expression Shiro had heard countless times, spoken from shoppers during Saturday morning naps with his grandmother as they marveled at their reflection in the mirror, exchanged between cadets as they slipped on new uniforms, and proclaimed by Lance nine to twelve times. A day.

Yet never did Shiro ever think of that sentiment applying to himself. Not while living under the roof of his grandparents who had to be careful with money, unable to splurge recklessly on pricey labels. Not as a kid too small and skinny, then stretched to a gangly teen. Not even now, preferring clothes that were comfortable and not too restricting on his right side, only now starting to feel close to comfortable in his skin after the great journey his body went through.

But there was something about lingerie, about the soft straps, the smooth lace, and the silk material that made him feel right. Like now.

He couldn’t stop staring at his reflection in the full-length mirror of his bedroom. He couldn’t stop running his fingers over the set, the soft satin, the exposed skin that the material both displayed and cleverly hid. He couldn’t stop turning here, turning there, watching himself admiring the material.

He couldn’t explain or even remember when his fascination with lingerie started. He remembered looking over pages of Victoria Secret’s catalogue, more fascinated in the pieces than the models. He remembered the first time he ever found the courage to try on a lacy white nightgown in a dressing room and feeling so warm when he looked into the mirror that he felt lightheaded.

The piece he had on wasn’t the same red one from the display window but it was definitely still bold. He couldn’t stop staring at the crimson red bra that was a creation of lace and darker red mesh material that made him feel so naughty, like an old pin-up model from the 40s, with the tiny bow in the center finishing off the piece. The skirt to the mooning garter thong lived up to its name, being so short at the front that Shiro somehow felt even more naked even with his cock tucked into the bugling faux leather pouch, the back a thin red strap of red between his ass cheeks saved him from total exposure, with garter straps hanging loose behind and dangling besides his legs, swishing along with the skirt as he turned side to side.

Shiro couldn’t stop the smile that spread onto his face, the warmth bubbling inside him, as he ran his hands over body, over the sheer eyelash laced- ups that were barely filled by his own “tiddies”, playing with the hem of his skirted panties.

He felt pretty. He felt safe. He felt good, scars and prosthetic arm and all. 

Catching his bottom lip, Shiro couldn’t contain the warmth that stirred in his chest as he turned to the right, then the left. Behind him, shiny black shopping bags littered the bed. Through the sparkly white paper, he saw pieces of lace peeking out. Some bras that were similar to what he was wearing in black and white and a soft pink. More panties and thongs, knee-highs.

“ _I don’t think Keith would mind seeing you in that either_.” Hunk’s words resurfaced from his head.

At the time, Shiro didn’t give too much thought to what Hunk said since Hunk, bless his soul, tended to say things that either took awhile to process or were hysterical jumble that was better to store away. Well, that was partially the reason. Another reason was because, shamed as he was to admit, he was too focused on brushing away the asshole’s words and sneer. Now? Hunk’s words replayed in his head, pressing deep down like a finger pushing a seed into soil.

On one hand, it had the simple yet unexpected angle Shiro wanted for his anniversary gift. Especially considering the adventurous streak that’s been dipping into their sex life. This was one territory they had yet to enter.

On other hand…Shiro bit his lip and reexamined his reflection. It was a whole other territory, which laid the problem. Keith was adventurous and was up for nearly anything, but men in lingerie was a concept most people don’t even think about, much less being a line they wanted to cross. Hell, the idea alone usually produced a reaction that was similar to the mall asshole, sometimes even worse.

The warm, bright bubble Shiro had been floating wasn’t as warm anymore. It wasn’t a bubble anymore. It was a dark cloud he was sinking him into, forced it to watch everything around him slowly darken. A dark cloud pointing out every flaw he didn’t see before. His too tall and too thick frame that gave the impression of power, strength. Not delicate. Not sexy in that way.

Before today, the only one who had seen him in lingerie was himself. He tried to share it with Adam, but he remembered the pinch at Adam’s mouth when he spotted a male cadet with brightly-colored nails. While he never voiced it, Adam made it no secret he believed gender norms were no issue and it was odd for anyone to think otherwise. Shiro wondered back then if that should have been the sign of their lack of compatibility.

Shiro toyed with the bow in the center of the bra, shifting his feet as he sorted through his thoughts.

But Keith wasn’t Adam though. He was Keith.

~….~

The night of Keith’s return/their wedding anniversary, Shiro was a frantic mess who was doing his hardest not to drop dead from the vast amount of nerves rumbling in his body as he went over everything he had planned out.

He looked over at the coffee table that contained dozens of white and red take-out cartons from their favorite Thai place that were still steaming hot. Along with the shrimp-avocado maki sushi rolls Shiro had done himself that he knew Keith loved. All that was missing was the cake Hunk helped him prepare that was cooling in the fridge. He didn’t want it to spoil as he waited.

He wondered whether he should start on the bath since he knew from his own experience one tended to come back grimy and fatigue. He could ease Keith into relaxation, and then unveil his surprise.

Or maybe-

“Shiro!” Keith’s voice echoed loudly in their home, the door creaking open and close as footsteps entered in.

Or maybe they would spend the rest of the night at the hospital since Shiro was exactly five seconds away from combusting into millions of little anxious pieces. Or would be right number for his size be billions?

“Shiro!”

“Here, bae-” Shiro called out and then immediately winced, smacking his hand against his forehead. Bae? Really? He cussed himself out, shaking his head.

He didn’t blame Keith one bit for asking the following question: “You sure you’re okay?” 

Because even at his drunkest, most out of it state, there were a million nicknames Shiro would use for Keith and bae was nowhere on that list.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he answered back. “Just give me a few minutes.”

Kosmo dropped in, appearing on the bed, tail wagging. The look in his eyes was a mixture of half-concern, half-judgment.

“Help me.” Shiro muttered.

The look switched over to full, hard judging before Kosmo shook his head and disappeared.

Like owner, like pet. Rolling his eyes, Shiro turned his head back to the mirror and assessed his reflection one last time before he walked out of the bedroom, down the hallway, and into the living room, each step causing his heart to work at double time.

Keith was already lounging on the couch, legs laid out, arms stretched over the backrest, head titled back. He stripped off his Blades uniform that was a balled-up wad resting by the door and changed into the clothes Shiro left for him in case he decided to get comfortable before he did anything else. In an oversized white shirt and brown shorts, a soft smile tugging at his lips, Keith looked the epitome of relaxation.

Shiro didn’t know if it was the fact this was the first time they were seeing each other directly face to face without a screen in over two weeks. He didn’t know if it was the fact Keith possessed the kind of beauty that would never cease turning his heart into mush. But he did know heart became that familiar melted, warm mush when Keith pulled his head back up and opened his eyes, the soft smile broadening to a fuller one.

“Hey you,” he said.

Shiro smiled. “Hey yourself.”

“Would it be completely, stupidly corny if I said that I missed you like crazy?” Keith asked.

“Nope.” Shiro shook his head. “The feeling was mutual.”

“And if I said that I very, very much am intrigued by what you’re wearing?” The way Keith’s eyes roamed over the black robe was nothing sort of thorough -and interested.

Seeing that look, hearing those words was a sign that this would possibly work out in Shiro’s favor. He held onto that hope and answered, “This,” He gestured towards the robe. “is actually part of the wonderful surprise I put together for you.”

“Oh?” Keith sat up and leaned forward, hands on his knees.

“Yup,” Shiro nodded. “You have three choices. Dinner.” He gestured at the coffee table filled with food. “A nice, warm bath.”

Keith bit onto his bottom lip to contain his snort, but Shiro still heard him. Not that he could be blamed. It was such a cliché line.

“Or…” Shiro’s voice trailed off as he stood up straighter, giant spiked-winged butterflies fluttering inside his stomach.

“Or…?”

This was it. The moment of truth. Shiro took in a deep breath and gently pulled at the bow knot around his waist, pushing the robe off his shoulders and leaving it fall to the ground, revealing the red number he modeled the other day that made him feel both invincible and beautiful.

“Me.”

Keith’s reaction was in slow motion, going from amused to pure shock. Mouth dropped, eyes widened, taking in everything. From the lacy red bra with barely-filled cups, the red panties with the skirt still attached, the red silk stockings that were attached to the garter of the skirt.

“Well,” Shiro asked after what felt like a torturous minute, giving him his best smile despite the butterflies that had morphed to killer bees, stabbing his insides. “[What do you think?](https://twitter.com/applefuell/status/1306749263867674625/photo/1)”

Keith’s expression didn’t change one bit. He only stared and stared in the heavy, long silence that nearly went on forever, changing Shiro’s heart from rapid fire to slow and heavy.

“Keith?” Shiro was going to pretend not to have heard the fear that slipped into his own voice.

Still nothing. Keith didn’t move. His expression thankfully wasn’t twisted in disgust like he feared, but the daunting shock was too intense for comfort, hitting too close to the horrified kind of shock. Almost as if Shiro was a car wreck that was so incredibly terrifying, he was trying to piece together what had happened.

All at once Shiro became too aware of the flaws to his body that were unraveling, multiplying like an army of fire-ants crawling over his skin. Despite getting the largest size at the store, the bra and panties were dangerously stretched out. The sets upon sets of scars he collected from his time as the Champion, from being Haggar’s experiment, to dying and coming back were out on full display. The unbalance weight of his prosthesis felt almost as heavy as his heart right then, a flash of phantom pain going through his arm.

Tears burned in his eyes and Shiro blinked them away furiously, determined not to cry. He should have expected. He should have known to expect this, and he cursed himself for being so stupid and not expecting it. He wasn’t made for pretty lacy things. He wasn’t made for anything pretty in general.

“Okay, so this-this was a dumb idea.” He tried to make his voice light, but a sob caught. “More than dumb, this was stupid. Forget it. I’m just gonna-”

“Don’t you dare.”

Shiro was scrambling to find his robe while fighting the urge to give into the tears, planning on making a quick escape and spending the rest of the night in their room, under the covers. Until the guttural sound of Keith’s voice sliced through his rising panic, calling Shiro’s attention back to him.

“Don’t.” Keith repeated, his voice low and urgent.

Shiro studied him and was instantly snapped into focus, the intensity of those dark violet eyes standing him in place like a punch to the chest. Seconds away he had mistook that stricken look of practical horror. Now he knew it was the farthest thing from it.

It was lust.

It was need.

Desperate and unflinching need broken down in its most feral, rawest forms that raged a fierce storm inside those beautiful violet eyes. A raging storm that made every hair and cell and nerve alike stand straight in electric anticipation as those violet eyes studied him.

“Come here,” Keith breathed.

“Keith-”

“Come here.”

“But-“

“Come. Here.”

In a daze, Shiro obeyed, stepping closer to him on shaky legs, feeling heat and nerves rattle his bones

“Taskashi.” Keith said in a low whisper. A small wisp of a smile played across his lips as he slowly shook his head. “Taskahi.”

Keith beckoned him forward with a curl of his finger. Shiro went easily, heart hammering, as he watched those violet eyes narrow into slits, a wicked smile gleaming in those violet orbs that matched the curl twisting his mouth. Once the distance between them was barely nonexistent, Keith’s hands were on him. Slowly gliding across, sliding down, marveling at the lace. Playing with the silk, the thick straps, the bow. Shiro was ashamed of the whimpers that leaked from his mouth like a broken faucet. At least he would be if he had any sense left, instead of being a delirious, needy mess.

“You’ve been holding out on me.” Keith shared, his finger swirled around the bow. “Big time.”

He stopped right there, at his chest, where Shiro felt his nipples hardening to stone from his husband’s intense gaze. Keith leaned forward and caught one in his teeth, the other one rolled in between his fingers.

Shiro moaned, leaning forward. He grasped onto Keith’s shoulders.

“You like that, sweetheart?” Keith asked. By the amused lilt of his voice, he knew the answer but still wanted to hear it.

Shiro whimpered, nodding weakly.

“Always knew you were a princess.” Keith murmured, rolling both nipples in between his fingers, the satin material from the bra adding more friction to the teasing.

Shiro practically hunched over him, squeezing tight while Keith continued his assault.

“I suppose I didn’t have any ideas how much of one you were.” One hand eased away from his chest and was at his cock, gripping tight.

Shiro cried out, trying to thrust into Keith’s hand, but his husband refused to cooperate.

“Or how naughty you were.”

“Please.” Shiro pleaded.

Keith pulled back and looked at him. He barely touched him but Shiro felt precome dampening his panties.

“Turn around.”

Shiro did just that and bent forward, guided by the gentle pressure of Keith’s hand at his lower back. He held onto the coffeetable and tried to keep his composure, moaning all the same as Keith shuffled closer to him.

“My, my, my.” Keith muttered.

“Keith.” Shiro moaned.

“Seems like my princess isn’t as delicate as I thought.”

A shudder raked through his body as he felt Keith play with the thin bottom of the panties.

“Apparently he’s naughty.”

Keith pulled back the strap and kicked at the back of Shiro’s legs until they gave out easily and were spread out, completely exposing him.

“So naughty.”

He released the strap with a snap that slapped against Shiro’s ass, making him jump.

“So very, very naughty.”

Keith pulled at the strap again and it came back twice as hard, striking him against his hole, making Shiro yelp and mewl.

“Keith…Keith!” The end of his name and Shiro was shrieking as he felt the strap pulled back and a felt a hot tongue diving in, sweeping across him. “O-oh….Fuck!” He dropped his head onto the table, any and all other thoughts leaking from his head with the one instinct to feel. Only feel.

And boy, did Keith made sure Shiro feel. He felt those smirking lips against his flushed skin as that tongue returned for a slower, deeper sweep, making sure not an inch was spared. A teaser to the torture Keith unleashed, teasing Shiro viciously with those firm strokes, sly twists that made everything in Shiro from toes to head curl, and upped the torture as one hand toyed with his cock, now freed from the pouch, while the other joined that wicked tongue.

“Baby…baby…” Shiro croaked. “Please.”

Humming happily, Keith pressed his tongue deeply in, twisting his way in, before he pulled back without warning, leaving Shiro empty and heavy. He looked over, a whine building in his throat, and watched Keith get to his feet.

“Bedroom.”

Shiro had never loved that word as much as he did then.

By the time they reached the bedroom, Keith’s shirt was long gone, an impressive bulge swelling between his legs that he showed with no shame as he sat back against the headboard, with that wicked smile returning as Shiro climbed onto the bed and crawled over to him like a lovesick fool coveting the king’s attention.

“Tell me what you want, princess?”

Whimpering, Shiro crushed his lips against Keith’s in a kiss that was a wild battle of teeth and tongue before he pulled away and dropped his head onto Keith’s lap, near his cock that was growing beside him. Shiro moaned as he licked off the beads of precome leaking from the tip, and moaned again as he felt his hair caught in a firm grip.

“Your cock,” Shiro mewled. “I want your cock.”

“I see.” Keith’s grip loosened, releasing Shiro from his hold. “And how do you want my cock?”

Delirious from the need bubbling inside him, Shiro could only moan as he came in for another lick, sweeping from tip to side, melting as Keith’s grip turned firm again, nearly pulling at the roots.

“I asked you a question, sweetheart. How do you want my cock?”

“Riding,” Shiro murmured. “I wanna ride it.”

“Well then,” Keith gently nudged Shiro away until he was standing on his knees and spread his legs wide. “Your throne awaits.”

It didn’t matter how many times or how many ways they’ve done this. Nothing, absolutely nothing could prepare Shiro for the vast, overwhelming desire that never ceased to grip him each time he felt Keith press inside him, pushing through, until he was rooted at the base, making sure there wasn’t a spot that wasn’t covered, wasn’t felt. And Shiro felt it every time and reveled in it.

“Fuck!” he choked. “ _Oh_ …[ _oh_](https://twitter.com/applefuell/status/1306749263867674625/photo/2)….”

“All you, princess. Always all for you.”

That’s right. Because this was his. Keith was his. His to touch, to kiss, suck, and make love to.

“Do you have any idea,” Keith breathed, sounding just as overwhelmed as Shiro. “how hot you look right now?”

Without warning, Keith thrust up hard and deep. Shiro would have been knocked over from the sheer force alone if it weren’t for Keith’s near-death grip on his hips that were both a blessing and curse. A blessing because it saved him from completely going completely under while at the same time a curse that kept him rooted to the spot, forced to feel every blunt force of power, every inch as Keith dealt him thrust after thrust.

“Baby!” Shiro cried, head thrown back, struggling to keep up with Keith’s frantic, brutal rhythm.

“No idea.” Keith said in between thrusts.

“No idea.” Keith said in between desperate kisses, nipping at Shiro’s bottom lip and tongue with those canines until Shiro tasted blood.

“No idea.” Keith purred as his he ran his clawed hands over Shiro’s half-naked, half-laced body, nearly slicing the bra off as he raked his fingers over Shiro’s back.

What? Shiro wanted to ask, came close to saying, but every time he opened his mouth, a chorus of moans and grunts and mewls burst from him as he attempted to chase after his pleasure.

“No idea how beautiful you are. How sexy.” Keith caught his lips in another harsh kiss that nearly robbed him of breath.

“Ke…Kei…Keith…Oh god…baby.” It was too much, all too much. Shiro weakly fell onto his back and Keith followed over him, towering over his body while still pounding into him, grabbing hold of Shiro’s legs and wrapping them around his waist. Shiro looked up to find faint lavender strips blooming across Keith’s cheeks, the familiar violet taking on a dark golden tint.

“But I do,” Keith continued, leaning closer to Shiro and pinning his wrists beside his head.

“Keith.”

“I know exactly how good you are.”

Shiro nearly cried out, giving up on attempting to meet him, simply laying down and taking every bit of pleasure Keith was offering.

“My good, sexy boy.” Keith moaned. “My pretty princess.”

“Keith.”

“And all mine.”

Shiro’s breath caught. For a spilt moment, everything was stilled-time, him, his breathing, his heart. Everything was swirling into a black hole in that instant before snapping back to vibrant, dazzling colors as pleasure barreled through his body, exploding into billions of pieces until he was nothing more than a specks of dusts.

“Look at you.”

Whimpering, Shiro looked up at Keith. The Galra stripes were on full display in thick, vibrant purple. The yellow irises sang of triumph as they look in Shiro’s disheveled appearance, stockings drenched in cum, panties half torn, his bra barely held together

“Mine.” Keith declared.

“Yours.” Shiro weakly answered back.

Growling, Keith pulled away from his sensitive hole and crawled on top of him, until he was hovering over Shiro’s chest, cock in hand and aiming for Shiro’s face, where Shiro liked it best.

He rubbed vigorously before he howled in pleasure as thick ropes of white cum splashed over Shiro, coating his face, his hair, his chest and what was little scrapes reminded of his bra.

“Yours.” Shiro whispered. Painted in white, body a boneless heap, chest too achingly filled to the brim with love, he never felt more desired. More beautiful. “Always yours.”

Triumph remained in Keith’s tone, but this time it was a pleasing purr. One that turned into another, then another, and another as he nuzzled into Shiro.

~…..~

“So I take it you liked my present?” Shiro asked hours later, his lingerie a cum-soaked, tiny scrapped mess of ribbons, body sore from the additional three rounds Keith unleashed upon him.

Keith hummed as he pressed his body closer to Shiro’s, draping a leg over his thighs. “Loved it.”

“I’m glad.”

“By any chance, do you have any plans tomorrow?”

Shiro thought about it for a moment and then shook his head.

“Good because I just made some for us.”

“Oh? And what do they entail? Breakfast in bed? Morning sex? Lazing around the house? Even more sex?”

“That-and us going back to the store where you brought this impressive red piece. Where you’ll model each stunning piece in front of your husband. Where later on said husband will have the time of his life tearing them off you.”

‘Babe,” Shiro chuckled. “I would like some of those pieces to retain intact.”

“Fine, I’ll go out and buy you more.”

“Deal.”

They sealed the promise with a soft, lingering kiss that melted any remaining part of them that wasn’t burnt out from the fierce lovemaking.

“Happy anniversary baby.” Shiro murmured.

“Happy anniversary, princess.” Keith teased, stealing another kiss.

Shiro made a mental note to send Hunk the best fruit baskets and nerdy packages you could make for a friend ASAP. Or whenever Keith released him from bed. Whichever came first.

**Author's Note:**

> Follow the link below to check out the incredible fanart of this story by the incredible Abel aka applefuell over on Twitter:   
> https://twitter.com/applefuell/status/1306749263867674625?s=20


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